


Overtaken

by hella_avie



Series: WATTS [2]
Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hella_avie/pseuds/hella_avie
Series: WATTS [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661236
Kudos: 1





	1. Awake and Asleep

Mestago Verezki had no idea where he was.

Over the last few months, he had been traveling through the darkest regions of the continent, following the trail of something that outpaced him tenfold. He was sure the ghost was fucking with him, laying false trails and leading him to the most perilous places it could find. Mestago was rather close to the end of his rope. 

He had not yet run away from a fight, and didn’t plan to start soon.

Speaking of fights, the bushes around him began to rattle at the same time. His eyes, narrowed and sleepless, darted from side to side. His drawn sword, now notched from his months of daily combat, shone in the feeble light allowed past the forest’s canopy. His forearm’s shell opened, releasing glowing antennae that began to move of their own accord. They touched the air delicately, like the tongue of a snake.

Blade-armed beasts stood up out of the brush. They folded their blades behind them and bowed. Mestago bowed as well.

Mestago and the mantises faced each other, daring each other to make a move.

***

“Poz, wake up already. The nerd wants to see you.”

“...ghhhhh…” Pozak rolled over in his bed. “...tell him to come over and just fuggin’ say it...jeez…”

Slako hit him with the flat of her sword. “Get UP, Honeyfuckle! Fuck!” She was seething. “Every day with this shit! I want Poindexter to stop wakin’ me up too!”

Slako had been getting considerably more enraged daily for the past few weeks. It looked like she was getting antsy waiting for Mestago to show up again.

She stomped off to decimate more of Pozak’s furniture. Over the time waiting, she had decimated 3 tables and a wardrobe. Pozak didn’t really care unless she ended up cutting his bed in half.

Pozak rolled out of bed. Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he started walking to the library, where he assumed Tobit would be. The local library was close to Pozak’s home, and boasted a surprisingly robust rare books section.

Winter had ended, and spring was beginning. Snowdrops and knifeseed were sprouting from the ground, threatening massive structural damage. Especially from the knifeseeds falling from their heights above the hive’s streets. They matured in summer, though. They were fine for now. Pozak could already feel the chill off the young snowdrops he passed.

He took a look around as he meandered to the library. The hive’s yellow roof stretched far, far above him, the holes in the dome allowing light through. The scent of honey floated through the air; production had begun with the advent of spring. The wild grass on the streets was growing a little, with fewer patches dead and a greater spread of green.

Pozak entered the library, where Tobit frantically signalled to him from behind a closed door. Pozak briefly considered pretending not to notice him, but sighed and decided to go inside.

“So what warranted making Slako wake me up and break my shit, again?”

Tobit looked overexcited. “I’ve found some records of past sealings and cross-referenced them with my list of broken seals.”

“You huh? You had a list of what? You didn’t think to tell us about that?”

“Well, I, uh…” Tobit started to make clicking noises. “Don’t focus on that, I found exactly what our armored friend’s looking for.”

“So get to it already.”

“Right. So basically, this is what looks like the only Herecul to be sealed as a punishment. Beztaktos, or the Star-eyed. Not sure what that nickname means. The guy went on a killing spree of just absolute total destruction.”

“What kinda total are we talking about here.”

“Uhhh…razing of land, salting of fields, murder of prisoners...the whole nine yards.”

“So, we’re dealing with a warlord who’s faster and stronger than us and was able to disrupt everything we can do, from combat to magic.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re bein’ real helpful.”

“This could actually help us out. Reports say he’s vindictive, cunning, and ‘a real prick.’ Their words. This means that he’s definitely messing with Mestago right now. If that goes on long enough, they might run each other to the ground and get rid of both our problems. Worst-case scenario, one survives and we have a couple months to a year to get ready for him.”

“All right, that part actually helped. Good job, Tobit.”

Tobit smiled. “Thank you.”

Pozak left Tobit in the library and began to walk back to his house. It had started to rain while Tobit talked, bringing a scent of wet grass and wax. He went immediately to his bed and slept for maybe two minutes before he was woken up again by a clatter.

“...what the hell is it no--”

“Huschhchh…” Pozak sat bolt upright. This clicking, grating voice was new.

In front of Pozak was a strange, short bug weighed down by a great backpack. It was holding a clock that had once been on his nightstand. All Pozak could see of it was six eyes and its massive mandibles; the rest was covered by a cloak that looked to be made of bandages. All of its eyes fixated on Pozak, and it jumped through his window. The last Pozak saw of it was the turn of its cowl as it rounded the corner out of sight.

Into his window jumped Slako, still in a blind rage. She stomped through his house as Pozak groggily watched. He heard his front door open and shut, and footsteps over to his window. Slako jumped through his window again.

Pozak decided to just go back to bed the fifth time this happened.


	2. Arrival

After a bizarre fight, the mantises had suddenly stopped. Once more, they bowed. Mestago, not exactly sure what had happened, bowed back.

One of them spoke in a strange hissing, rustling voice. "Congrats, kid. You pass. Come along."

The two mantises walked along a path, bantering with each other about strategy and their fight. Mestago, perplexed, followed.

Soon they reached a small reinforced encampment situated in the middle of the woods. He was shown into a large leafy dome, in the middle of which sat a massive mantis. A grinding, gravelly voice emerged from her.

"Herecul. You're away from your lands. Tell me, what brings you here."

Mestago cleared his throat. "I'm looking for him. You… I've read about you before. You'd remember who I'm talking about, I believe."

She leaned forward, her interest piqued. "Ol' Star-eyes, eh? Didn't think I'd have to think about him again. You've released him, I presume."

"I have."

She chortled. " _ Delaktoi. _ You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Just because he was sealed as a punishment doesn't mean he's weak." She settled back into her seat. "The weapon of a Herecul reflects its model. His blade'll serve you well… if you live long enough to use it." She stood up and beckoned. "I have someone who can help you out. Maybe. OK, it's a bit of a stretch."

The mantis queen led Mestago to a small hut set up like a shop. "Scalper!"

A tiny creature slouched in. It was cloaked in rags, with vicious jaws and six eyes.

“ _ Jouche secte tai. _ ” It spoke in a strange combination of mucusy rasps and clicking, in a language Mestago had never heard.

“So, uh… what is it?”

“We’re not sure. Deffo some kinda larva? Hasn’t shown any signs of metamorphosis, though.” The queen paused.

“Does it speak commontongue?”

“Ah, yeah.” The queen whacked it on the back of the head.

“...wchell, chat whas unnesheshry.”

“Yeah, not very well.”

“What’s it...what’s it  _ do _ ?” Mestago was a little on edge. Something about the thing was unnerving to him, like it was something more than he knew.

“It looks for shiny things. But in terms of useful things,” she unsheathed a blade, “it’s very, very hard to kill.” With this, she stabbed it directly through the chest. Mestago jumped. She removed her blade and, faster than Mestago could see, the wound disappeared. “Prolly somethin’ about how kids bounce back from injuries quicker. Or it’s magic. Doesn’t really matter. Ya want it?”

“Why are you giving it to me? What’s wrong with it?”

“Honestly, it just keeps stealin’ shit. You look like you ain’t carrying much shiny stuff besides what you wear. It’ll be the partnership of the century.”

“Huh. Well, if it follows me, I won’t kill it.”

“Just demonstrated you definitely can’t, so cool!” She folded her armblades up and walked back to her tent. One of the gang of mantises that followed her for no apparent reason turned to Mestago and said, “Hey, if you’re ever in a pinch...our main city is due north of here. So just remember here and go north, past it.” With that, he walked away.

Mestago was nonplussed for a moment. “Wait, how am I supposed to…eh.” With that, he walked into the setting sun, eventually reaching the wasteland beyond the woods. The little being scampered behind him, thinking he couldn’t see it.

***

It was spring.

In his travels over the vast, cracked wasteland, Mestago had been on various exciting adventures, but all he was worried about just then was what lay in front of him.

He entered the arena and was puzzled. The door at the back was marked with the First Seal, which he had learned was one of two lines of defense in the sealing of a warrior. He knew this would be here; the puzzling part was the inscription beneath it.

“WORTHY SACRIFICE FOR A LIFE LONG DESPISED. OFFER THYSELF OR ANOTHER TO BREAK THE CHAINS. FALL BEYOND THAT WHICH WOULD AND THAT WHICH IS.”

He whispered, “Here all along.”

“Well, Mestago. I suppose that’s that.” 

“So you’re here to taunt me, fettered? I thought you had given up on me.”

“I don’t give up on friends,  _ eschaddein _ .” Her sword flashed in the dim light as it disappeared, and she shook her head.

Mestago began to laugh. “You’re not my friend if you keep stopping me from doing what I want. Keheh. My only friend right now is him.”

She sighed. “And killing him is just such a nice gift for a friend.”

“I don’t need to hear this from you.” Mestago threw a tiny, needle-like blade at her. Her head tilted and it flew past.

“As if that would have hit me. You’re only hurting yourself. C’mon, shadow.” She gestured to Scalper with a wing.

Mestago didn’t turn to look back at them. He laid his hand on the stone door. “Soon, sir. Soon.”

He turned after a while. He had dropped to a kneel, and his knees were getting tired. His palm’s compartment opened, his sword sliding out and into his fingers. The cracks in the carapace of his left arm lit up with orange flame, dripping down and eventually hanging from his arm like a cape. 

Mestago Verezki strode out towards Zetrezke.

Hey, how’d he get here, anyway?


End file.
